While times have certainly changed from when we were growing up - in terms of kids safety, increased cynicism, racism, wider social divide, etc; we still managed to create a world pretty much to reflect a harmonious society like the one we grew up in - by introducing the kids to kids of our friends; who are of various races, religious beliefs and live in houses of varying sizes in as varied neighbourhoods. We homeschool them, and by doing so have so far slightly protected them from political indoctrination, racial discrimination, bullies and to a certain extent, stress.
In spite of already living in our bubble; NOTHING prepared us for COVID.
In a world where people already were cynical of each other; we now hide our smiles behind a mask and can not hug, high five or shake hands.
We can’t make friends in the football field, or freely have a picnic in the park. We can’t have excursions to museums or share a drink with our friend. We can’t partake of a cake that the candles were just blown off by someone else.
Instead, we stay at home, study at home, play with members of our own family, watch a screen on Sundays and call it the gathering of believers.
How do I bring up my kids in this crazy COVID era? We can’t go on holidays, we can’t travel interstate, we can’t play football or floorball, we can’t swim in a pool. Heck - we can’t even eat at a restaurant. What is the meaning of all this?
What will our children tell their children? What memories do they carry with them? How do we raise kids who experience childhood and its joys and mysteries, while not seeming to be reckless?
From the moment the 2 stripes appeared on the pregnancy test, we had a responsibility to do the best we can for another human being. It was a first then too; nothing prepared me for marriage, pregnancy, motherhood - but I dug deep inside for strength I hoped existed, and give it my all.
Over the years, with many struggles thrown into the equation, I have grown complacent in my role as a mother. The creator of a magical world for the children to grow up in; to help them dream, and believe dreams come true. To give them a happy childhood.
It’s that time again, to dig deep and create childhood memories that are worth retelling; for creating opportunities to jump in muddy puddles and for showing them that strangers are friends that are yet to be made. The person dressed like a homeless man, is not someone to be feared; but someone to be helped. And in these times, it’s more critical than ever to dig deep, because for a year now we’ve had almost exclusive influence on our children. How they talk, what they remember, what their dreams are made of will be mirroring our views, our dreams, our words... are we going to speak life?
